


I've Been Afraid of Changing ('Cause I've Built My Life Around You)

by asexual-fandom-queen (writeordietrying)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeordietrying/pseuds/asexual-fandom-queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Of course, I never expected you’d be moving in with your boyfriend, and your boyfriend’s girlfriend, and your boyfriend’s girlfriend’s wife.”</i><br/>Joe helps Barry move into his new house with Len, Sara, and Nyssa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Afraid of Changing ('Cause I've Built My Life Around You)

**Author's Note:**

> Can I get a _hell yeah!_ for the Coldflash/Captain Canary/Nyssara ship (or whatever we're calling it)  
>  Title taken from Fleetwood Mac's song [Landslide](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WM7-PYtXtJM). Will there come a day when I don't name fics after songs? Maybe, but today is not that day.  
> Let me know if you want more of this 'verse, because I do have an idea for another fic, if there's interest.

Barry grabs the last three books from the shelf in his bedroom and drops them unceremoniously into a moving box on top of his bare mattress. He takes a deep, grounding breath as he looks around the empty room, all traces of his presence there packed away, ready for the next chapter. 

A knock at the open doorway startles Barry from his thoughts, and he turns to see Joe in the threshold. 

“Next load ready for the car?” the detective asks. 

Barry nods. “Yeah,” he says. He picks up the packing tape dispenser from the bed and seals the final box shut. “I think this’ll be the last one.” 

Joe doesn’t speak, doesn’t stoop to collect one of the boxes from the floor. He simply stares at Barry in contemplative silence and the younger man sighs sadly, weight of the day’s endeavour settling heavy on his chest. 

“Thanks for all your help, Joe,” Barry says finally, chewing at his lips nervously. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing with your Sunday afternoon.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Barr,” Joe scoffs. He pushes off the doorframe and moves into the room to stand at his foster son’s side. “This is your first house. It’s a big deal. Of course I wanna help you move in. It’s something I’ve been dreaming about since you were little.” 

Barry smiles over at Joe appreciatively, a gesture the older man quickly returns. After a moment, though, Joe huffs a laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I never expected you’d be moving in with your boyfriend, and your boyfriend’s girlfriend, and your boyfriend’s girlfriend’s wife.” 

Barry laughs, too. “I know this it’s a bit unconventional,” he says, hand running through his hair. 

“Unconventional?” Joe repeats. “Barry, it’s downright weird.”

Barry’s mouth opens to protest, but Joe cuts him off by holding up a hand. “But,” the detective adds. “There are still people who think it’d be downright weird for me to date a white woman. So, maybe I just need to keep an open mind about this whole polyamory thing. I mean, it makes you happy, right?” 

“It makes me so happy,” Barry replies, small, dopey smile spreading across his face. 

“Then that’s good enough for me,” Joe says, nodding decisively. 

Barry stares down at his fingers, twiddling them absently, as the silence between the two men drags on. He knows Joe’s waiting for him to speak, to push past his inhibitions and share whatever thought’s been gnawing at his brain. Finally, he breaks. 

“Thank you, Joe,” Barry whispers, voice quiet, glancing up cautiously to meet his foster father’s eyes. “For being so supportive. I know you’ve never been the biggest fan of this relationship - of them - but the fact that you’re trying, that you’re willing to be open to this for me, means a lot.” 

Joe shrugs, an attempt at playing the situation off as casual, but his eyes are filled with tears. “I’m really trying,” he admits, solemn. “But it’s not easy for me. All any good parent wants for their kid is the best. And it’s hard to convince myself that this is what’s best for you when it goes against everything I was ever taught my whole life.”

“I know,” Barry says, emphatic. “Honestly, just getting to a place where we aren’t fighting about it anymore is more than I’d hoped for when all this started.” 

“Oh, God,” Joe sighs, running a hand roughly down his face. “I am so sorry.” 

“Hey, no,” Barry says, head shaking. “It’s like you said. It’s not how you grew up.” 

“That doesn’t make it right, Barr,” Joe insists. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. And it’s not your job to put up with my ignorance. I’m the parent. It’s my job to love you and accept you. Not months later, not after you’ve had to convince me. From the beginning. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you.” 

“Just because something isn’t right doesn’t make it your fault,” Barry says, steady and reassuring. “I wish you would have been okay with this from the beginning, too. But you’re making an effort to be okay with it now, and that’s goes a long way toward making things right again.” 

Joe nods, blinking tears from his eyes. Then he lets out a dry chuckle. “Mind you,” he says. “I’d probably have warmed up to you being in a polyamorous relationship a lot sooner if your partners weren’t a world renowned thief and a couple of professional assassins.” 

“Former world renowned thief and professional assassins,” Barry corrects, though it’s in good humour. “I know their pasts don’t exactly sparkle, but that isn’t what matters. What matters is that they’re the people I want to build a future with. 

“Len is it for me,” the speedster continues, smiling fondly at the mention of his boyfriend. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love him, my whole life. And he loves me. But he loves Sara, too. They have this incredible bond I could never replace. And why would I want to? Especially when Sara, she’s one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. She’s the first to laugh at a joke, or offer someone the shirt off her back. You’d never believe how much joy she has. Her past is full of darkness, but, somehow, she’s still like sunshine.”

“So, basically, what you’re telling me is, Snart has a type,” Joe teases. 

Barry blushes and looks down at his feet. “I guess,” he laughs. Then, he looks back up at Joe with renewed enthusiasm. “And Nyssa,” Barry continues. “I know she seems terrifying, but, really, she’s just a huge dork. I mean, look at this, Joe.”

The younger man reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out his cell phone. He scrolls his finger across the touchscreen until he finds what he’s looking for and shoves the device under Joe’s nose. 

“She uses cat emojis,” Barry says. “Not to mention,” he adds, returning his phone to his pocket. “She forced us all to marathon  _ Avatar: The Last Airbender _ with her. We’re onto  _ Legend of Korra  _ now, which she takes very seriously. Every Sunday night, no matter what, we watch a new episode. She says Korra reminds her of Sara, and Len reminds her of Asami. Which is ironic, seeing as how she doesn’t seem to know that Korra and Asami end up together. I guess Nanda Parbat didn’t have cable.”

Joe huffs out a laugh and Barry chuckles along. 

“Listen, what I’m trying to say,” Barry continues. “Is that you only see what’s on the surface. A bunch of newly - and, quite frankly, questionably - reformed criminals. But nobody is ever just one thing, Joe. People are complex. We’re good and bad, hero and villain, saint and sinner. But when you’re meant to be with someone, you know, because they make you the best possible version of yourself. They bring out your best qualities and help you conquer your worst. That’s what we are to each other. 

“And it’s not just the so-called criminals becoming better people,” Barry adds, giving Joe a serious look. “God knows, I have plenty of bad qualities of my own. I’m stubborn, and self-loathing, and too sensitive for my own good. I think the whole world would fall apart without me, which, okay, yeah, is mostly anxiety, but it’s definitely ego, too. 

“But being with Len, and Sara, and Nyssa,” Barry continues. “I’m learning about compromise. I’m learning how to accept the things I’m  _ actually  _ responsible for, and how to let go of the rest. They’re teaching me how to deal with guilt. How to keep my feelings safe. How to be my own island, somebody whose strength comes from within themselves, who doesn’t need anyone else to validate their worth.” 

“Sounds like you make quite the team,” Joe says softly. 

Barry smiles. “We do,” he agrees. 

Joe lets out a profound sigh and moves to sit on the end of Barry’s bare mattress. Hesitantly, Barry sits beside him and examines the other man’s rigid profile.  

“You know,” Joe begins, foot tapping anxiously. “This is about more than just you and the Unholy Trinity moving in together.” 

Barry huffs an amused chuckle at Joe’s use of his signature nickname for Len, Sara, and Nyssa.

“It’s just that everything’s changing so fast,” the older man continues. “You becoming a homeowner. Iris and Linda getting married next month. I mean, hell, all of a sudden I’ve got a sonogram picture in my wallet from Wally and Jesse ultrasound last week. I got so used to just being a dad, you know? Now, in less than a year, I’m gonna be a father-in-law, and a grandfather.” 

Joe looks over at Barry and smiles sadly. “I don’t know what my job is anymore,” he says, voice wavering. “My babies are all grown up. They don’t need their father anymore.” 

“Joe,” Barry whispers, head shaking emphatically. “Wally, and Iris, and I, we are  _ always  _ going to need you to be our father. Just because we’re moving ahead with our lives doesn’t mean we’re leaving you behind. You have to know that.” 

Joe chuckles, a little wetly, and wipes at his eyes. “It’s not that simple, Barr,” the detective says. “If you have kids of your own one day, you’ll understand. Logic isn’t exactly a parent’s strong suit.” 

Barry chuckles, too. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. 

Abruptly, Joe rises from the end of the bed and bends down to scoop one of the boxes from the floor. He lets out a surprised breath and turns to look back at Barry, scandalized. 

“What’s in here, rocks?” the older man asks. 

“Books,” Barry replies with a smirk. 

“Right,” Joe says. “Well, you’d better put those super muscles of yours to work, ‘cause I ain’t about to risk putting my back out carrying more than one of these things down to the car.” 

In a Flash, Barry rises from the bed and zips around the room. He stops in front of Joe, the three remaining boxes stacked in his arms, with a bright smile. “Ready,” he announces, eyes shining bright with excitement. 

Joe sighs. “Yeah,” the older man says, features softening into a sort of bittersweet acceptance. “I guess you are.” 

 

* * *

 

Joe parks the car in front of a quaint Craftsman bungalow, oblong dormer poking up from the pewter grey roof. They’re in a picturesque suburban neighborhood, all white picket fences, sprawling gardens, and manicured lawns, but the bright canary yellow siding gives the house some unique character. A small magnolia grows to the left of the covered porch, the pale pink blossoms lining its spindly branches offering a decent amount of privacy for the large porch swing. 

A delivery van is already parked in the driveway ahead of a black Chevy Tahoe, and Len stands on the lawn, directing movers inside.

“It’s a nice place,” Joe remarks, head nodding absently in approval.  

Barry smiles wide and opens the car door. “Come on,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping outside, Joe following close behind him. 

Both men take a few boxes from the trunk and amble up the lawn’s slight incline toward the front door. Len turns from the movers as Barry approaches. He places a gentle hand and the small of the younger man’s back and kisses him on the cheek. 

“You all moved out?” Len asks as he pulls away. 

“Yup,” Barry replies, body practically vibrating with excitement. 

Len looks over at Joe and tilts his head respectfully in greeting. “Joseph,” he says. 

“Leonard,” Joe replies, courteous, if not overly warm. 

“Hey,” Len calls, turning back to the movers as they haul part of a cool grey sectional sofa recklessly up the front steps. “Watch it.” 

“I’ll catch up with you later?” Barry calls as he begins baking toward the house.

“Yeah,” Len calls back, still keeping an eye on the hired help. 

Barry and Joe jog up the steps past the movers and into the house. The front door opens to an open concept space, a coat closet to the right, along with stairs to the basement, the kitchen off to the left, and the living room in the far right corner. The room’s palette of whites and greys is modern but still impressively inviting and homey. There’s a direct eyeline from the entrance to the back deck, just out a set of French doors behind the dining area. The backyard is spacious for the neighborhood, and privately fenced in. Joe makes a small sound of approval in the back of his throat as he takes everything in.

In the living room, Nyssa sits cross legged on the floor, her back to the door. She’s surrounded by a clutter of pine and particle board panels, like various bits of white-painted debris from an explosion of which she was the epicentre. At the sound of the door opening, she turns, nodding when she sees the two men standing in the threshold. 

“Barry,” Nyssa says. “Joe.” 

“Hey, Nyssa,” Barry replies. He notices the troubled expression on her face and frowns. “What are you doing?” 

“Assembling the entertainment center,” the woman spits, fury obviously mounting. “Or at least trying to.” She returns her attention to the instruction pamphlet she’s gripping viciously and huffs. “I have killed men with my bare hands. I will not be bested by Ikea furniture.” 

Nyssa’s animated ranting sets Joe on edge, but Barry just laughs. 

“Where’s Sara?” the speedster asks, moving further inside. 

“Gone for groceries,” Nyssa replies. “Since our fridge has just been installed.” 

“Oh, great,” Barry says, glancing over to see the stainless steel appliance slotted neatly in place beside the floor-to-ceiling pantry. Then, he turns to Joe and gestures forward. “This way.” 

Barry leads the detective to one of two doors between the kitchen and the dining area. He shuffles his boxes to one arm to turn the handle then pushes the door open with his foot. He runs his hand blindly along the wall until he’s flipped the lightswitch, darkness immediately replaced with a soft white glow from the fixture on the ceiling.  

The obvious staple of the room is the bed, draped in a pale blue comforter that compliments the cream walls and piled high with pillows, both decorative and functional. It’s easily six feet in width, and even more massive in length, taking up a sizable portion of the space, but still leaving enough room for a couple of end tables and a comfortable-looking wingback chair in the far left corner. 

“That thing’s enormous,” Joe remarks, placing his boxes down on the floor. “Is that a king?” 

“A super king, actually,” Barry corrects. “It’s an extra four inches across. Which would otherwise be completely excessive, except it can get pretty crowded sometimes.”

Joe looks over at the younger man with a raised eyebrow and Barry immediately backtracks. 

“I mean, obviously Sara and Nyssa have their own room,” he says. “It’s not like we always share the same bed. And it’s not even sexual thing, really. Well, not often.” 

“Barry,” Joe interrupts, voice stricken, hands held up in supplication. “Please, stop talking. Right now. I do not want to know.”  

“Right,” Barry says, nodding slow, embarrassed. “We should go grab more boxes.” 

“Yes, we should,” Joe agrees. 

And so, they spend the next twenty minutes running back and forth between the house and the car, bringing in box after box of Barry’s things. After over a half-dozen trips, Barry turns to exit his room and return to the car for yet another load, but Joe cuts him off at the door. 

“That was the last of it,” the detective says, placing the box in his arms at the foot of the bed. 

Barry’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really?” he asks. 

“Really,” Joe replies. “You’re all moved in.” 

“Oh,” Barry says dumbly. He turns to look around his new bedroom, boxes stacked messily on the floor, waiting to be unpacked. “I guess I am.” 

Joe sighs, the sound deep and filled with melancholy. He moves to sit on the end of the bed, and Barry follows. 

“You know,” Joe says, voice soft and a little regretful. “I can hardly believe we’re actually doing this. For years, I was so sure you and Iris were gonna end up together. That you’d get married, inherit the house from me, maybe raise a couple of kids there.” 

Barry is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Are you upset things didn’t work out that way?” he asks finally. 

Joe shrugs. “I think, for the longest time, I was,” the older man admits. “I’ve never been the most adaptable to change, Barry. But I’m learning to let go.”  

Barry looks over at his foster father and offers him a watery smile. “You know, Joe,” he begins. “Just because Iris and I won’t be using the house doesn’t mean it won’t stay in the family. I don’t know about you, but I think Wally and Jesse’s studio downtown is gonna be pretty cramped once the baby comes.” 

Joe chuckles. “You’re damn right,” he agrees, nodding. He shifts in his seat to place a warm hand on Barry’s shoulder, looking the younger man in the eyes. “I’m proud of what you’ve got going on here, son. Even if I don’t tell you as much as I probably should.” 

“Joe,” Barry whispers, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes. 

Joe claps him firmly on the shoulder, then moves to stand. “I’d better get going,” he says. 

“You can stay longer, if you want,” Barry offers, but Joe shakes his head. 

“No,” Joe replies. “Thanks, but I think it’s time for me to leave.” 

Barry nods in understanding, then rises from the bed, too. “At least let me walk you to the door,” he says. 

It’s a request Joe accepts, so the two walk from the bedroom to the front door together. Len and Nyssa are sitting in the living room, entertainment center nearly finished its construction. The sectional’s been set up, one side of its back to the kitchen, the other to the dining space, giving the illusion of a more self-contained room. 

“You figure that thing out?” Barry asks, gesturing toward the entertainment center with his chin. 

Len and Nyssa turn back to look at him over their shoulders, and Len scoffs. “Finally,” he drawls, annoyed beyond measure. “I’ve robbed high security museums more easily.” 

“Why is the point of reference always crime with you people,” Joe mutters quietly, exasperated, and Barry chuckles.  

Just then, the front door swings open. The newcomer remains hidden behind the dark wood panel, still ajar, as she kick off her low top canvas sneakers, but Barry would recognize her voice anywhere. 

“Hope you losers like finger food,” Sara calls. “‘Cause all our kitchen supplies are still at the bottom of a box somewhere.” 

Finally, Sara kicks the door shut and come into view. Her wavy blonde hair is pulled half into a bun at the top of her head, and her the sleeves of her blue flannel shirt are rolled to her elbows. She deposits an armful of cloth grocery bags on the kitchen counter and smiles up at Joe. 

“Oh, hey, Detective,” she says, bright and welcoming.   

Joe sighs. “I told you, Sara,” he replies. “Call me Joe.” 

“Old habit,” Sara apologizes. She takes her purse from around her neck and hangs it on a hook by the door. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asks. “It won’t be anything fancy, but you’re welcome.” 

“Thanks for the offer,” Joe replies. “But I think I should let the four of you have the evening to yourselves. If I remember correctly, the first night in a new house is a big deal.”

“Thanks, Joe,” Barry says. He moves forward to give his foster father a tight hug, and Joe quickly returns it. 

“I’m a just a half-hour away if you need anything,” the older man says, rubbing gently at Barry’s back. “Or even less than that if you’ve got super speed.” 

Barry laughs good-naturedly and pulls away. He sniffles once, trying to stave off the tears gathering in his eyes. “I’ll visit lots,” he promises. 

“Iris said the same thing,” Joe replies with a chuckle. “But, as it turns out, life gets busy.” 

Barry’s smile turns sad. “I’ll at least try,” he says. 

“Well,” Joe says. “You’re welcome any time.” 

“Same here, Joseph,” Len adds, coming to join the others in the kitchen. “Though, maybe give a little warning first.” 

Joe doesn’t dignify the comment with a response. Instead, he pats Barry on the shoulder, says one final goodbye, then heads out the door and down the driveway to his car, passing Sara’s electric blue Yaris on the way. He waves up at the house where Barry watches from the window before putting the car in drive and rolling away. 

 

* * *

 

“Don’t forget,” Sara calls as she and Barry move glasses from a box on the kitchen island to their rightful place in the cupboard. “We’re having Ollie and Felicity over for dinner on Thursday.” 

From his seat in the corner of the couch, Len scoffs. His feet are wrapped in thick woolen socks and rest comfortably on the cushions as he reads the thick paperback in his hand. 

“That should be fun,” the older man drawls. “Spending an evening with Nyssa’s ex-husband, Barry’s ex-girlfriend, and your ex-boyfriend.”

“Felicity isn’t my ex-girlfriend,” Barry splutters. 

Len just laughs. “The way Sara tells it,” he replies. “She was definitely your ex-something.” 

Nyssa maneuvers past Barry and Sara and reaches across the counter for the bottle of wine Sara purchased that afternoon. She examines it carefully and frowns. 

“Why the bloody hell does this thing have a screw top?” the brunette asks, sounding absolutely scandalized. 

“Because I knew we wouldn’t be able to find our corkscrew,” her wife replies, smiling sweetly. 

“That’s horrifying,” Nyssa mutters, but says nothing more as she grabs two of the freshly unpacked wine glasses from the cupboard. She pours them both three quarters full and then brings them into the living room. She reaches over the back of the couch and around Len’s shoulder, pushing the glass in front of his book. The older man takes it with a small, mumbled thanks. 

Nyssa rounds the couch and sits to Len’s left, then looks over into the kitchen and scowls. “Those can wait,” she calls. “It’s Sunday night.” 

Sara chuckles and Barry sighs, but they both stop in their task, filling their own glasses with wine and joining their partners on the couch. Len scoots to the right, letting Sara sit in the sharp corner. Barry takes the spot to Len’s right, and when Sara throws her legs over the older man’s thighs, her feet end up in Barry’s lap. One of Len’s arms settles across Sara’s knees while the other wraps gently around Barry’s shoulders. Sara leans into Nyssa’s side as the brunette turns the TV over to Hulu with laser focus. 

“The entertainment center turned out nice,” Sara remarks, whispered into Nyssa’s shoulder. 

“A small miracle, really,” Nyssa replies, eyes never leaving the screen as she searches for her desired content. 

As they wait, Barry tickles absently at the bottom of Sara’s foot. The blonde giggles and shrieks, pulling her foot back reflexively and nearly spilling Len’s wine. As their laughter continues, the televisions starts playing a familiar opening narration, and Nyssa leans over to shush them like schoolchildren. 

“It’s starting,” she hisses, unimpressed. 

“Sorry,” Barry and Sara mumble sheepishly. Len looks over at Barry, smiling fondly, and the younger man buries his flushed flushed face in his boyfriend’s chest. 

A man’s rapid-fire voice with a thick, Transatlantic accent begins recapping the events of the previous episode as the foursome settle more comfortably into the couch. Nyssa’s passionate concern for the safety of a cartoon character fills Barry’s chest with an intense fondness and love. The weight of Sara’s feet is a grounding presence in his lap, and Len’s warmth along his side makes him feel safe and content. 

The house is still cluttered with boxes, a complete state of disarray they’ll have to deal with in the morning, but Barry doesn’t care. Right now, curled up together with the three people he undeniably wants to spend the rest of his life with, he feels more at home than he has in a long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://asexual-fandom-queen.tumblr.com/).


End file.
